


Prophecy and Promise - A Star Wars Fan Story

by James_M_Patton



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Awkward Flirting, Dreams and Nightmares, Eventual Smut, Fallen Jedi, Falling In Love, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lightsabers, M/M, McGuffins, Meditation, Post-Game, Post-Order 66, Rebels, Slow Burn, The Force, Violence, alien life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/James_M_Patton/pseuds/James_M_Patton
Summary: Kal Fennik, a Dathomiri Jedi who survived Order 66, is less than thrilled when he bumps into that name-stealing golden boy Cal Kestis. Forced to flee his hiding place on Jedah with the crew of The Mantis, he's thrown into a galaxy-spanning chase as a mysterious Holocron, unseen adversaries, and a budding rebellion throw his quiet exile out the window. All of that he could live with, but his growing feelings for Kestis? Now that's gonna cause him trouble.
Relationships: Cal Kestis/Male Jedi OC, Cal Kestis/Original Male Character(s), Kal Fennik/Cal Kestis, The Mantis Crew & Original Characters
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya folks! I've been meaning to write some fic for my OC Kal for a good long while now, and when Fallen Order came up for sale on Steam I figured it might give me some inspiration. Turns out they went and gave a canon protag the same first name as my darling boi! This left me with two options; get bitter about it, or write gay shenanigans. Obviously, I chose gay shenanigans. [Most of the Cal fic I've found out there was straight, so I guess this was needed.] Put a pause on your thirst, 'cos this one's gonna be a slow burn, but I promise you we'll get to the good stuff eventually. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is my first attempt at creative writing after a three-year break, and certainly the first I've put up on the great wide web, so both constructive criticism and positive feedback would be appreciated. I hope you bear with me while I find my feet again :) Now, without further ado...

The Holy City on Jedah was thought by many scholars to be the birthplace of the Jedi order. Certainly, it was one of their earliest sites, and the Temple of Kyber here is sacred to almost every faith in the galaxy, from The Church of The Force to The Brotherhood of the Beatific Countenance. Not, perhaps, somewhere you’d expect a Jedi to hide from the Empire. Yet that’s exactly what my master and I have been doing for the past three years. Teacher and student, we blend in well with the melting pot of pilgrims and tourists, scholars and clergy that still throng the streets even under the watchful eye of the Empire’s new mining operation. The enemy may be here, but it’s a sanctuary for us anyway, a place where we can live unnoticed and study the Force at some of our order’s most ancient shrines. It is, relatively speaking, safe. But not today.  
  
Today is different. I could sense the shift in the Force this morning when I woke. My master, Kaito Shareen, seemed uneasy at breakfast, though she couldn’t tell me why. And now as I take my daily walk towards the temple, I can feel the expectancy in the air, like fate has reached a junction and it’s only a matter of time till it takes one path or the other. I’ve reached a junction too, though not metaphorically. Two streets from the temple steps, where the path splits, there’s something of a hold-up. It seems an imperial cargo transport has gotten jammed between the alley wall and a produce crate someone left in an archway. The driver is drumming his fingers on the wheel while the transport guard is trying to shunt the crate free to no avail. I stand behind a few on-lookers and plant my staff on the ground, finding balance and reaching out through the Force to see what’s in the sealed containers they’re carrying. I recoil as soon as I sense it, focus shaken by rage as I realize they’re full of kyber crystals. Mined, no, _stolen_ from _our_ holy place. Maybe this is the change I’d sensed. The mining operation has finally broken through. I push back the thought of them plundering our heritage and try to restore my composure. I can’t expose myself now, can’t deviate from my routine, or I’ll be noticed. I’ll cut short my time at the temple so I can tell Kaito sooner, but I can’t go back to her without making an appearance. Still, perhaps there’s something I can do here and now. As the guard finally shoves the crate free, I pull my fist back, and the transport jerks across the junction as if from a sudden release of tension. One of the containers tumbles from the bed and cracks open as the transport hits the wall, and I avert my gaze from the spilled crystals as I start to walk away. Then I spot the Holocron. Emerald green and a little smaller than a training remote, it’s nothing like the standard blue cubes I remember from the Jedi temple on Coruscant, but its purpose is still unmistakable. The crystals were bad enough, but a Holocron? Nah, I draw the line there. The Empire might take our power, but I won’t let them take our knowledge. As those who’d been watching either flee the scene or rush to the driver’s aid, I quickly pull it and a couple of crystals to me with the Force and dump them surreptitiously in the bag at my side. Small victories.  
  
A couple of minutes later, and I’m approaching the temple. One of the Guardians is sitting on the steps as usual.  
“Chirrut, catch!” I call to him as I toss one of the pilfered crystals, knowing his lack of vision won’t keep him from plucking it out of the air. Perhaps a risky, unnecessary move on my part, but one that might just make his week. He turns it over in his hands, grinning.  
“You’re a good man, Kal Fennik” he tells me. “I’m going to miss you.”  
“Miss me?” I stop and turn back to him, already halfway up the temple steps. “Miss me why? Are you going somewhere?”  
_Kal…_  
Chirrut just smiles at me knowingly as the voice comes again on the wind.  
_Kal…  
_A voice I haven’t heard in years, calling my name. A voice I haven’t heard since last I visited Coruscant, before the purge. My mother’s voice. Chirrut looks up at me expectantly.  
“I believe that’s your calling, my young friend. Best not keep it waiting.” He nods towards one of the souks, cramped market alleyways, that comes off the temple plaza. I turn my head to follow, and he’s right. I can feel something drawing me that way. I start down the steps, tucking my staff under my arm ready to run with it.  
“One last thing, Kal Fennik” he stops me.  
“Yeah?”  
“May the Force be with you.” He smiles, and I smile back. Somehow, I know he sees it.  
“Yeah. You too.” And then I’m off at a run.  
  
This witch is not my mother.  
“I did not expect to see a Night Brother this far from Dathomir” she gives me an appraising look. I hate it when they do that. “What brings you here?”  
“I’m not a Night Brother” I say, unsure how else to reply.  
“No? You look like one. But that does not answer my question.”  
“I don’t think I owe you an answer, Sister.” I try to keep my tone respectful; I’d only encountered one other member of my mother’s cult before the purge, and it’s not an experience I want to repeat. We look at each other coolly, uncertain what to make of each other. “Why were you calling my name?” I volunteer at last. “Tell me that, and I’ll answer your question.” Now it’s her turn to look confused.  
“I… wasn’t?” she ventures.  
“Yes, you were” I insist. “Kal, K-A-L. Don't play coy, because I've never heard an accent on Jedah like yours before.” Then someone clears their throat behind me.  
“Ah, Cal. C-A-L. She’s with me.” I turn to meet the voice, an apology dying in my throat when I see his green eyes and shock of ginger hair. Cal Kestis. Karabast, of all the name-stealing, half-year-younger, twice-as-talented, golden-boy padawans that could have survived the purge and wandered onto Jedah, why did it have to be this one. Unsure whether to hug him or punch him, I settle for a classic.  
“Oh. Kestis. It’s you.”  
“Uh?" he looks defensive and hooks his thumbs into the belt rings of his- what is he wearing, some sort of rigger suit? I roll my eyes hard enough my head almost follows them.  
“Tell me you don’t remember me, and I’ll break your nose” I warn him, and he takes a step back, raising his hands while confusion and alarm meet on his face in a way that shouldn’t make me pity him but does anyway.  
“Look, I don’t want-" he starts, before a shout from the end of the alley cuts him off and ruins my day.  
"JEDI, STOP!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reconnecting with a childhood acquaintance and his Night Sister companion, Kal's cover is blown. With the Empire closing in, will they get away unscathed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy folks! Glad to see people at least read the first installment, so I guess I'm doing something right. We get some action in this one, though perhaps not the kind of action some of you are here for, and learn a little more about our dear boy Kal. I'm keeping the installments fairly short while I get used to writing again, though the plus side of that is you should be getting them more often. Enjoy :)

“JEDI, STOP!” The shout comes from further down this stretch of alley, where a squad of stormtroopers are pushing civilians out of their way and heading in our direction. I count four with blasters and two with electro-batons, plus the commander, and that’s not something I want to deal with right now. I turn to Cal, who’s already looking for a route out.  
“Think they’re after you, or me?” I ask.  
“You’re a Jedi?” So help me if I don’t smack this kid. I grab his wrist and pull him deeper into the labyrinthine market, out of view of the troopers.  
“Come on! We can lose them in the souks. Once they’re off our trail, I’ll get you somewhere safe.” Three years. Three years my Master and I had lived here unnoticed, and Cal Bloody Kestis hasn’t been here five minutes before he gets us spotted. Absolutely superb. I look around for the Night Sister, realizing we’ve lost her. Damn, I could’ve sworn she was ahead of us. I’m about to turn back to look for her when I hear _I shall provide them with a distraction. Keep running, Jedi, and I shall find you when it is safe._ Creepy, but good enough for me. I let go of Cal and push him ahead, encouraging him to get a move on as we weave through the maze of stalls, past tables loaded with trinkets and stacks of fabric, herbalists, food stands, droid shops and little religious places where the air is so thick with incense it makes my eyes water. Some of the vendors I know call out to me as we pass, but I daren’t drop below a brisk walk until we’re several streets away. Once we’re out of familiar territory and I have to start paying attention to where we’re going, I slow our pace. Turn left. Left again at the scrap shop. Through a courtyard, then right, then over a bridge. Do I go straight on here?  
“Will she be alright?” I ask Kestis as we squeeze past a laden fruit cart.  
“Merrin?” So that’s her name. “I doubt she’ll break a sweat. Last time she came up against Imps she set a Walker on fire.” He smiles to himself, clearly enjoying the memory. I wonder if they’re somehow involved with each other.  
“Impressive” I admit. Dathomir only holds bad feelings for me. My parents had been driven off-world before I was old enough to remember, and the thought of almost dying there when the clones turned hadn’t endeared me to it. Yet I can’t help feeling a kind of familial warmth knowing one of the Sisters had survived. I’m probably still on the endangered species list, but knowing I’m not the only one left? It feels good. “How did you two meet, anyhow?” I’m sure we’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.  
“It’s a long story” he answers. “I trespassed on her home, she raised the dead, and then we fought a fallen J-”  
“Hang on” I cut him off, not really listening. “Dead end.”  
  
The alley we’ve been wandering down has terminated in a wall. I turn around to go back, only to be met with a row of white armour coming towards us. Five stormtroopers take a knee, blocking our way out of the alley, and another five line up behind them. Each one of them raises a blaster towards us. Their commander stands behind them, safe between the two Z6 wielding guards he’s brought. He calls out a challenge.  
“Lay down your weapons, Jedi, and nobody needs to die. I’m told the Inquisitorius would love a chat.” There’s a blaze of emerald green as Cal steps in front of me, something I’m more than happy to let him do, and ignites his lightsaber.  
“Not an option.”  
“Very well” the commander sighs. “Open fire!” Everything happens all at once. I manage to clear leather and incap one of the bucket-heads with my blaster before they can shoot. Cal’s saber is a blur, deflecting two bolts and knocking the rest off course. The line breaks as he charges them, their tight formation suddenly a hindrance as they try to avoid his blade. He takes down two more before they and the commander can back off, and the scout troopers close with their batons. The second blade of his lightsaber hums into life as he ducks one swing and parries another. I clamber up onto a crate and lay down some fire on the stormtroopers, nailing a couple, and trying to stop the rest from getting a clear shot on him. Cal gets a solid kick on one of his assailants and turns, plunging his saber in to the hilt while his guard is broken. That’s when the other one gets him in the gut with the baton. He winces as electricity arcs across his core, and in that moment of weakness he’s hit by a blaster bolt. Then another. Then another. I put one in the trooper who shot him as Cal tries to step forward and raise his guard, but instead he just crumples, his weapon deactivating as he hits the floor. Karabast. Cal Kestis may have spent his formative years being a thorn in my side, but I’m not going to let him die on me. I sheath my blaster and leap down from the crate. Raising my staff, the bottom half explodes off as for the first time since landing on Jedah I ignite the brilliant purple blade of my lightsaber. There goes my cover-story.  
  
Calling my weapon a saber might be a bit of a stretch, it’s more like a short glaive. Built for the clone wars, the two-and-a-half-foot hilt and three-foot blade lets me bring my strength to bear, affording me greater reach and leverage. Not an elegant weapon, but in a situation like this? Ideal. I reach out through the Force, and knock the trooper with the baton off balance with a quick push and pull combo, driving my blade up under his guard as he staggers towards me. Pulling it out of him as the remaining buckets advance on me, I raise a guard to block their shots. This style of hilt isn’t great for precision deflection, but I was never very good at that anyway. Not that it matters. I close on them in a few strides, slicing through one and slamming the other back into the wall with the force. I turn to the commander and find the barrel of his blaster an inch from my face. Karabast, this is not my day.  
“Lay down your weapon” he tells me again. “Because you may cut me down, but I promise you I will pull this trigger first.” I believe him. Slowly, I lower my blade. Then he screams, flailing as his eyes blaze with green fire and he crumples to the ground. Night Sister Merrin stands behind him, face twisted in distaste.  
“Cal!” She spots him behind me and rushes to his side. I join her as a BD unit, a rare model of explorer droid, leaps from her shoulder and sticks… something bright green into him. He groans and shifts a little.  
“He needs a healer” she tells me, stating the obvious. “Do you know somewhere we can take him?” I nod an affirmative and scoop him up into my arms. He’s only an inch or so shorter than me, so I’m surprised by how much lighter he is.  
“Grab his lightsaber" I tell her. "We'll have to move quickly." I activate my comlink and explain the situation to my master as we make our way back through the souks. We agree to meet at our bug-out location. The house won’t be safe anymore. Merrin and I get some strange looks, two Dathomiri Zabrak running with an unconscious Human, but nobody stops us. A few minutes later, Cal’s eyes blink open. He looks at me wearily and says  
“I never thought you’d be saving me, Spike.”  
I could drop him. _Spike_. I knew he couldn’t have forgotten me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep beneath the city, the gang finds solace, Master Shareen makes an appearance, and Kal gets the measure of his new companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the last notes I mentioned keeping these short and uploading often? Yeeeeah, this is longer than both the previous chapters together and may have taken me a smidge longer. Just a smidge. Like, 5 days of smidge.
> 
> Anyhoo, there's accidental flirting in this one, so enjoy I guess :P

Forget everything I said about Kestis being light. Apparently carrying a mostly unconscious human for 20 minutes through a subterranean maze will take its toll. When you really look at Jedah, the whole moon is a maze. The souks and the catacombs, the inner sanctums of a hundred different temples, even the strange scholarly mentality of its people, forever searching for enlightenment. Beneath the holy city is no different. Down here, there runs an ancient labyrinth of waterways, built long before Jedah became the cold desert moon it is today. They’re mostly dry now, though there are still some places where they meet natural springs or thermal pools, deep within the earth. It’s one of these we now trudge towards. The BD unit, BD-1 it introduced itself [an original model no less!] periodically scans the walls and rock formations around us and bleeps about new data-logs. It’s certainly an inquisitive little thing. I, meanwhile, have been stuck making awkward small talk with the Night Sister. I’m not really sure how to talk to her.   
“So… how do you know Cal?” I try. “I didn’t expect to see a Night Sister travelling with a Jedi, certainly not this far from Dathomir.” She seems to consider her response.   
“He came to Dathomir looking for a way forward. I helped him find it, and he made one for me as well” she tells me. Not particularly enlightening, but perhaps it was too personal a question. “What about you? You seem to mean something to him.” That one was unexpected. Until the Spike comment earlier, I was buying into him not remembering me.   
“Are you sure about that?” I ask her.   
“Oh yes. His humour is quite…” she pauses, looking like she’s trying to remember something, “Sabacc Face, I think is the term Greez would use. But I am learning to read him well. You have a history, yes?”   
“I wouldn’t go that far” I laugh. “We trained together at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. We were the same age, had similar first names. We weren’t in the same clan- err, the training groups initiates were sorted into, but things being what they were… yeah, we knew each other. There were a few years I might’ve called us friends. Even if he was a disagreeable nerfherder most of the time.” I suppress a smile. As much as the young Cal Kestis had gotten on my nerves, he’d never managed to stay on them. “Then we passed our trials. Master Tapal took him as an apprentice, and Master Shareen took me. We went off to war, and that was the last time I saw him. The last time I saw most of them, actually. We… we were only twelve.” I feel my lip quiver in spite of myself. Did it hurt that much? “And then Order 66 went down and the purge began. The clones turned on us. And suddenly, almost everyone I’d ever known was gone. Almost.” So much for small talk. She looks at me with something approaching pity on her face. Or maybe more like understanding. We walk in silence for a while, just the sound of our footsteps and the occasional boop from BD. I jostle Cal in my arms again, trying to get a better hold and stop the numbness setting in, and he stirs a little.   
“I was around that age too” she says, eventually. “When my sisters were murdered. Your General Grievous came. He brought your war to my home and took everyone I’d ever loved from me. Cal tells me he was not a Jedi, but for so many years I believed it was your order who were responsible for my pain. It’s like he told me when we met” she nods to the young man in my arms. “I know how it feels to lose everything. And I am sorry it happened to you. To both of you.” I want to thank her somehow, but I can’t seem to find the words. I just nod, with a lump in my throat, and hope she understands. I’ve spent the past five years trying not to think about all this, and here I am, pouring it all out to a stranger. The kinship of survivors, perhaps? I suppose we are kin, in a way.   
“I was on Dathomir when the clones betrayed us, you know” I tell her after a while. The look she gives me tells me she did not, in fact, know. “The order intercepted a transmission, and we learned the seps had attacked your people. My master and I were near the system, so we were sent to search for survivors. Maybe if the clones hadn’t turned, we would have found you.”   
“Maybe.”   
  
Cal has stirred to consciousness by the time we reach our hide-out. Deep under the city, there are a few comfortably sized caverns [caves? grottos?] that intersect the waterway by a thermal spring. It had been our first safe haven when we finally reached this moon, three long years ago. All the trappings of our old life are kept here, books, saber parts, robes, a chipped old Holocron. Nothing extraordinary, but each as comforting and familiar as it is strange and sad. We don’t come down here often, but in times of trouble it has been our refuge. It is again now. I help Cal over to one of the cots against the wall and ease him down onto it, as BD scutters around the room scanning things.   
“Thanks” Cal says as I set him down. He tries to stretch as I take a seat at the table, and winces, clearly in pain. BD scurries over at the noise, and ejects another of those bright green canisters which Cal catches and sticks into his side.   
“What are those things?” I ask him. He looks away sheepishly.   
“Uh… stim shots. They numb the pain and give me an energy boost, and they speed up healing. BD has a magazine of them, and they came in handy, so I kind of… kept using them?” He shrugs. Thankfully, that’s when an aging Tholothian woman enters from one of the tunnels off the main cavern. My master, Kaito Shareen. I push myself out of my chair and embrace her. Her mantra has always been that one can never be too old or too strong for a hug, and boy do I need one today.   
“Kal” she smiles warmly.   
“I’m glad you’re safe” I tell her. “I was worried I’d-”   
“You had no need to be” she cuts me off, knowing what I’m about to say before I can say it. “You could have comm-ed me when the Empire were at the door and I’d still have given them the slip. You left me plenty of time.” She smiles at me reassuringly, and then gestures to the others. “Well? Introduce me!” she prompts.   
“Oh, yes. Right. Master, this is Night Sister Merrin. Merrin, this is Jedi Master Kaito Shareen.” Merrin turns her attention from the banners adorning the walls, and nods her head respectfully. Kaito returns the gesture.   
“I am glad to see that not all on Dathomir were lost” she tells her. “Though it weighs heavy on me that we abandoned a survivor amongst all that death.”   
“From what I hear, you had little other choice. If you desire my forgiveness, you have it.” Well. That was remarkably easy. I turn to Cal.   
“And this is Cal Kestis. Jaro Tapal’s apprentice, if you recall?”   
“I do indeed.” She smiles warmly as he attempts a small bow, and winces in pain again. “And apparently he’s in need of my help.” Merrin seems to take an interest here, coming over to watch.   
“Will you heal him with the Force?” she asks, curious. Kaito chuckles at that.   
“My dear, that’s not how the Force works! Thankfully, you don’t get to my age without picking up a bit of practical medicine. Though I’m surprised you haven’t attempted to create Water of Life” she responds. “Pop your shirt off, young’un” she tells Cal.   
“Creating the Water is a ritual process, one that I never had the chance to learn. And it would require Ichor-” The two begin talking methodology as Cal puts aside his body armour and struggles out of his shirt. Master Shareen has always been interested in how other cultures wield the Force, and knows a little of the Night Sisters secrets. Part of the reason we were sent to Dathomir, I would imagine. I take this opportunity to get a good look at my new companions, while Kaito begins the mundane treatment of a nasty blaster burn on Cal’s side. Merrin dresses like a sorceress and carries herself like a warrior. The red in her robes would probably help her blend in with the clergy here on Jedah, but the proud strength with which she carries herself would set her apart in an instant. I would say she’s conventionally beautiful, but that’s never really been my area of expertise. Regardless, I can see why the Night Brothers are so keen to serve my mother’s people. They respect power above all else, and power rolls of Merrin in waves. Cal almost looks insignificant in comparison, but I know better having seen the fight in the souks, even if I did have to jump in and save his ass. He’s certainly not the way I remember him. His ginger hair is longer and pushed back, a much better look for him than the short cut and braid. His eyes are still a subtle green, and warm, but I don’t see any of the sparkling joy in there that I remember. I imagine that thanks to the war, you could say the same about mine. I notice he keeps pushing his hair back or trying to stretch out his arms, something Master Shareen calls “owning the room”. An attempt to make oneself seem bigger and control space, though whether it’s out of bravado or to hide his nerves, I can’t tell. From what the Force can tell me of his emotional state, I’m guessing the latter. As for the rest of him, well… he’s slender, and certainly athletic. Scars old and new litter his smooth pale torse, matching the ones on his face. Some of them look like they were pretty serious. At least a couple are unmistakably from a lightsaber, and I can’t help wonder just what sort of trouble he’s been getting into.   
“Bleep bloop!” BD rouses me, and I realise I’ve been studying Cal for perhaps longer than is appropriate.   
“Hmm? Oh, just… lost in thought” I tell him. Droids without language processors always seem to communicate more in concepts and ideas than words, but BD’s next bloop is almost certainly an innuendo. I roll my eyes and give him a playful nudge, hoping the others were all too busy to notice. After a moment, he scuttles up my arm and onto my shoulder. I guess that means he likes me.   
  
A few hours have passed. I’m by the pool in the next cavern. I think I’ve mentioned that we don’t come down here often, but when we do, this is my favourite place to meditate. I like to sit on the edge with my legs in the water and stare down into my reflection, to trace the dark tattoos that break my blood-red skin and think about who I am, how far I’ve come. And where I am yet to go. I don’t have that luxury today, a great shame as this may well be my last chance. It seems in the fight earlier, a blaster bolt had clipped my left leg. This isn’t as great a problem as you’d imagine, as everything below my left knee is a prosthetic of bronzium and black duraplast, but with the shell damaged I can’t risk putting it in the water. The last thing I need right now is for my circuits to fail. So instead I lie on my back in my shorts staring up at the odd formations on the cavern roof, with my right leg trailing in the water and my left resting on the rock. I’ve been here a while, processing the day’s events. The trek here, and my chat with Merrin. The fight, the chase, finding Cal. Chirrut. The stolen Kybers. And the Holocron. I’d almost forgotten about the Holocron. When I rejoin the others, I’ll have to try opening it. A noise rouses me from my thoughts. I look up to see Kestis crawling out of the tunnel into the cavern.   
“Hey” he greets me.   
“Hey.”   
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, waiting where he’s stood. I look him over. Kaito’s done a good job patching him up, and there’s a fresh dressing over the wound. She was applying anti-burn when I left, so I’d imagine it just stings now, but by all rights he should be out of it with weariness after tanking three blaster bolts. If he wasn’t a Jedi, I’d say he should be dead. I start to wonder quite how strong those stims are, and then I realise that I’m just staring at him again. Or rather, lost in thought while staring in his direction. Hmm.   
“Go right ahead,” I tell him, “I’d be glad of the company.” He doesn’t move though. He’s looking at my leg, thumbs tucked in his belt rings. I sigh, not having expected this from him. “Look, I lost more than just friends on Dathomir, okay? If it’s going to be a problem, you can-”   
“No! No, not a problem” he blurts out. “Just… you look like you could use a patch, is all. I’m guessing one of the imps got you earlier?”   
“I guess.” I lie back, panic subsiding. I was worried for a hot minute there that he’d turned into one of those anti-cyborg types since I’d seen him last. Not that I’d consider a prosthetic an enhancement, mind, but it wouldn’t be the first time. I realise he’s all of a sudden kneeling next to me. And talking. “What’s that?” I ask him.   
“I said, I could fix that for you. If you like.” I just blink at him, not understanding. “I spent five years as a scrapper on Bracca. Got pretty handy with one of these” he explains, unclipping a hand welder from his belt, and gesturing towards my leg.   
“I, uh. I’d like my leg to be not scrapped, if that’s alright?”   
“Come on, I’ve put so many mods on BD with this thing I may as well have built him myself” he reassures me. I think about it for a moment.   
“Okay. Fine. But if you break it, you’re carrying me tomorrow, and that won’t be fun for either of us.” He just grins at me and sets to work. I don’t feel pain, but it sure as sunrise tickles as sparks arc across the plate. Half a minute later, he leans back, and there’s a neat bead of weld over the tear in the plate. I have to admit it’s a better job than I could have done. “Thanks.”   
“Don’t mention it, Spike.” I push myself up off my back, and lower my leg into the water. Sod it, if we’re leaving tomorrow… I slide off the edge and into the pool, submerging myself completely before standing and wiping the water from my eyes. I rest my arms on the pool’s rocky edge, and let myself float in the warm water. Cal’s stripped down to his shorts, and he perches on the edge near me, trailing his legs in the water as I often do.   
“Careful you don’t get your dressing wet” I tell him. Force, I sound like Kaito.   
“I know, I know” he lets out a sigh. “I love swimming, you know? Always have.”   
“You’ve got the build for it” I remark, not really thinking.   
“Thanks. Shame I can’t join you in there.”   
“Yeah.” Okay, time to change the subject. “Has Master Shareen made any progress with that radio?” There had been discussion about trying to contact Cal’s ship earlier.   
“I don’t think so. She and BD were still working on it when I left. Merrin got bored and disappeared somewhere. She does that.   
“Hmm.” I’m not really sure what else to say. How do you even start to reconnect with someone you’ve thought was dead for five years. I decide to voice something that’s been bothering me. “Did you really not remember me?” I ask him. “When we met in the souks, you seemed clueless.”   
“I wasn’t sure at first” he admits. “But the instant you said my name, yeah. I knew.” That’s a relief, at least. I float there in the water for a while, head resting on my arms, while he sits beside me and stares into the water. Eventually, he breaks the silence. “I’m glad you survived, Spike. I missed you.” I can’t say I’d expected that, but it’s nice to hear.   
“Yeah. I missed you too, Cal.” I’m surprised to discover that I mean it.


End file.
